Yes, I just saw that. Disconnect between brain and fingers. I was probably going to say something about the end of the year and edited myself. Still baking. Still frozen out. I propped the side door into the garage shut with a couple of bricks. It has been drifting open because the knob thingie doesn't quite engage to keep it closed. My poor pooches will get cold that way! (They have their dog houses filled with hay in a stall covered with a tarp and a radiator heater tied upright to keep them warm.)

I take heart in the fact that there is a character limit and Rapaire has probably reached it, so we are not likely to note anymore self-flattering adjectives appended to his name.

Since Mom is spending with me Rapaire, so there was no need to post greetings to her. She was a little upset that you were too cheap pay her air fare to DC, but now that she has opened all the lovely and expensive gifts and is basking warmly in the presence of those who truly care for her, she is much consoled.

The sun is setting on a yard still with patches of snow. I wonder how many sore butts there are in North Texas, being worn by those who didn't exercise appropriate caution when approaching this white holiday?

I was gonna be first to wish Mom a merry Christmas, but the storm that came through last night knocked our power out and it hadn't come back up by the time we left to do Christmas with relatives in town. We had some pretty strong winds and they must've knocked a tree onto a power line or something. Anyway, Mom knows it's the thought that counts and she says she forgives me.

If Janie and MOM are mad at Amos I guess that means the shit has hit the flan.

Is Little Hawk around? Any comment on the claim that the Shat man is Jewish? I knew Nimoy was, but didn't realize Wm was. Hmmm. (I first heard this recorded by Neil Diamond on YouTube, and started poking around. Seems to originate with Sandler).

I'm glad someone is having a casual day! I walked into the kitchen this morning and all I could smell was salmon (we opened a package last night for a late snack). After cleaning down the counter, mopping the floor, and scouring the front of the cabinet drawers and ornate pulls, I finally realized the smell came from a dishtowel sitting off to one side.

The upside is that in addition to doing a load of laundry, the kitchen looks great!

I'm not observing Boxing Day this year. Well, actually, I am observing it, I'm just not participating in it. I'm being a passive observer.

These are my Boxing Day observations so far:

1) I haven't observed anyone doing any boxing.

2) I haven't observed anyone doing any fencing either. But I'll probably be doing a bit tomorrow. The deer and rabbits have about wrecked the winter garden.

3) I've heard a fair amount of shooting, but that's normal. One of the neighbors seems to have gotten a new black powder rifle for Christmas. (Click-BOOM!) Another seems to have scored a new semi-automatic rifle. (Bat-Bat-Bat-Bat-Bat-Bat-Bat... until the clip runs out.) I haven't seen or heard anything to indicate that any of the shooting is being shot at anyone.

That is all. If I observe anything exciting, you can bet I'll let you know about it.

Mom, pay no mind to the bodacious narcissism of yon Rapaire. I have been working hard to bring a wunnerful Xmas to Barky and BBW. Tomorrow we head north yet again for a memorial service in Grass Valley. Your name is on the tip of all our tongues.

I hope Shame does. Amos has immense amounts of good dope stashed in his house, along with lots and lots of beer, and the girls in his neighorhood are always "willing." Shame could hang out there for a long, long time and Amos would be happy to support him.

It's sunny and cold here. It's usually sunny and warm here, so though I grew up in a northern clime, I'm no longer acclimated to sunny and cold. I'm thinking the suitable response is to head for dark and warm (a movie theater).

MOM, do you want to see Sherlock Holmes kick ass, or some blue creatures on a made up moon kick ass? Or George Clooney symbolically kick ass? Or John Travolta and Robin Williams act like asses?

Hey, Mom! While you're driving down the highway in your that trucker's highjacked Kenworth, ponder this:

Imagine you have a good-sized child's sandbox filled with damp, unpacked beach sand. Now, imagine you were to gently place a bowling ball onto that sand. It would make a shallow depression, right? Then, imagine you were to lift that bowling ball an inch or so and drop it onto the sand. It would make a slightly deeper depression, right? Now, imagine you were to climb a step-ladder, lift that bowling ball over your head, and throw it onto the sand. It would make a hole, wouldn't it? So, at what point does the change from depression to hole occur?

I understand that, from a mathematical/topological standpoint, a hole must go completely through a surface. But in terms of common everyday usage, when does a depression reach sufficient depth that Bubba or Jim Bob would call it a "hole"?

I think I have it! For regular fokes who don't care about what mathematicians call a hole or not, a depression becomes a hole when its depth is equal to or greater than its width. A six foot diameter depression with a one foot depth is a dimple. A one foot diameter depression with a one foot depth is a marginal hole. A one foot diameter depression with a six foot depth is a by God hole.

It's a hole if the child playing in that sandbox falls in and can't get back out. And if that child lands on a bowling ball in the bottom of that hole, it'll hurt, and his parents are going to be pissed off and wonder what in hell is wrong with that BWL, anyhow?

Yes, I see now that I left out an important step in the the thought experiment. I neglected to stipulate that children should be removed from the sandbox before dropping the bowling ball from the step ladder. I hope nobody dropped an imaginary bowling ball onto the head of a hypothetical toddler.

As the immediately past post here shows, the freds are no more. I could not permit their continued existence, preying as they did upon the genetic materials of other sentient beings. They served their purpose long ago and they are no longer necessary.

You of the mote you call "Earth" are, however, quite important in the schema of things, as laughter is a Universal panacea.

I would log out and join in the anonymous posting fun, but the possible consequences are far too dire. The Mudcat does have rules about anonymous posting on BS threads, you know. If one of your comments should be deleted, it would disrupt the continuity of the MOAB, thus leaving a huge gaping hole in the fabric of BS as we know it. Sorry, but even though I know the mods have far better things to do than monitor this crappy thread, and even though chances are none of them have even opened the thing in years, the possibility of a post being deleted fills me with fear, dread, angst, terror, horror, and other synonyms. YOU can take the risk of opening the BS equivalent of a black hole, but I'm not gonna do it.

The gracious and noble Rapaire was posting as a guest whilst he was in Silver Spring, Maryland, visiting his MIL over Christmas. The awe-inspiring Rapaire is again back in his home in Idaho, and will be going to work tomorrow. He greatly fears the horrors that may be lurking there.

So...yer MILF-in-law finally kicked yer sorry ass out the door, eh? Don't expect no flippin' simpathy from ME! I will be movin' to Californica soon becoz weed is legal their. Eether that or it will be Wahshingten BC becoz it is legal their too. One of them citys is reely in luck, man, cos the Man from the Northlnand is on his way!

Just when you begin to think this thread is running out of steam, something like flan comes along, and bowling balls on babe's heads, and it all starts right up again. A verbal juggernaut of staggering proportions.